Mages Must Not Fraternize
by shutterbones
Summary: A short one-shot of Isthalla's life in the tower when she and her friends were teenagers. I just felt like illustrating the daily life of being an apprentice in the Circle Tower. It's not talked about enough, and it's such a unique perspective with so many possibilities. Just something fun to read. Plus yay for teenage Anders appearance!


**Author's Note: **This takes place during Isthalla's story (OWiB), during her earlier days as a young apprentice. Just wanted to write a short little thing about the daily life of being a mage in the tower. Dragon Age doesn't talk about it enough, and there are so many opportunities for jokes and funny moments that I couldn't help myself. Also note the "thing" between Anders and Isthalla was a short-lived little fling they had as teenagers lol. Most of her "relationships" were fairly shallow. Jowan is like a big, protective older brother haha. Anyway, as you were. Enjoy! Check out **Origins Written in Blood** to read more about Isthalla's story!

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"All right, everyone gather around please - come, now please put down your things and circle me," Wynne chided the group of youngsters, using her hands as a guide to herd the children into a cluster. They were aged from five years to fifteen, some older. On the table sat fifteen-year-old Isthalla, with two -ever-adoring boys by the name of Jowan and Anders. She was chattering on about something or other, and completely disregarded her instructor.

"Isthalla, please, get down from there! I won't ask again!" Wynne barked. Her face turned a promising shade of red every time a student failed to listen, and made her cheeks tremble in the slightest. After a slow tilt of her head, Isthalla let out an aggravated sigh and moved from her perch as languidly as possible, letting all of the other students know just how much she didn't care for the teachers' authority.

"I swear, it feels like Irving is the only one that can get you to behave-" she muttered under her breath while fanning her into the poorly-constructed semi-circle. "Now!" she began with a sweep of her robes. Isthalla turned back to her companions whilst the younger children listened with enraptured attention to their wise teacher.

"Why must we listen to this _every_ morning?" Jowan groaned. "It's insufferable."

"I could think of ten things more interesting things to do than to spend my morning hearing the same list over again," Anders chimed in, sending a light wink in Isthalla's direction.

"And I could have turned every templar's trousers inside out before brea-"

"Isthalla!" Wynne cut off the whispering trio with a sharp glare. "Do tell me what is so interesting that you do not need to listen?" she cocked her head and placed a hand on her hip. A well-known posture of _I-won't-put-up-with-this-today_.

"Who spit in her trousers?" Jowan whispered over Isthalla's shoulder. Wynne's icy glare cut across, assuming Isthalla had been the culprit to the jest. Anders took point and stepped in.

"Actually, Enchanter-"

"That is _Senior_ Enchanter, young Anders," Wynne corrected.

"Senior Enchanter Wynne," he coolly corrected himself, then stepped forward to obscure the woman's view of her smirking target, Isthalla. "I was simply asking why we must go over these rules every single morning? I'm pretty sure I can remember them word-for-word now," he flashed a daring smile at the enchanter, hoping to appease her anger by means of flattery.

"You are a wonderful teacher, it's simply a bit repetitive in my opinion," Anders added.

"And boring for us older kids!" Jowan chimed in. Isthalla elbowed him enough to produce a strangled grunt. He fell back with a miserable frown.

"Why?" Wynne echoed the phrase with a foreign expression. "Because daily repetition ensures that every apprentice can never use the excuse of having _'not remembered' _these rules in the case of suddenly _not following them_-" she looked at Isthalla again.

"Which tends to happen _a lot_," she finished. Isthalla raised her brow in the slightest and pretended innocent with crossed arms.

When Anders had no other smart remark, she turned around and placed her instruction stick to the board, repeating the last rule out loud.

"As I was saying, each and every morning _every_ mage must be dressed and have their bed made by-" she turned to the class, gesturing for them to finish. The younger ones chimed in.

"Nine in the morning," the others chorused. Wynne smiled.

"Very good!" she glanced at the three troublemakers of the group. "And all children must be to bed by eight, apprentices by ten, and mages by ele-"

"Enchanter-" Anders' voice cut in. She turned on him. "_Senior_ Enchanter," he corrected himself a second time.

"Yes, Anders?" her voice was thin and impatient.

"Why is it we must go to bed earlier?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I understand that the children must have more rest-" he smiled down at the youngest ones of the group. "But what I don't understand is why the _older_ apprentices must have a curfew an hour earlier than the regular mages of the tower."

Wynne stepped up to the elder children this time, her smile dry and eyes narrowed. "Because the mages of this tower understand how to _spend_ those extra hours _productively_, unlike _others_-" she glanced at Jowan and Isthalla, "who prefer to stay up past their curfew to play _board games _in the closet."

"Yes, but how do you know the mages aren't playing board games in the tower too, if you are so busy watching us?" Anders tried. Wynne's attention shifted back to the ever-curious and eldest of the three.

"We cannot keep an eye on every single mage of this tower for every minute of every day," she admitted. "But part of the reason your elders were _promoted_ to the title of mage - other than successfully completing their Harrowing - is because they were _mature_ enough to handle the freedom that comes with it."

"What did she say about freedom?" Jowan's head popped over Isthalla's shoulder again. Isthalla promptly shushed him and slapped his hand from her shoulder.

"In due time you will be asked to complete your journey into the Fade and face your demons, so that you may also become an established mage of the Circle," she rounded about and walked back up to her board. "But _until then_, you must _repeat after me_," she pointed back to the rules and looked straight at Isthalla. The fiery mage rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to drone on with the rest in a single, flat note of empty recurrence.

"_Every mage must be dressed and have their bed made by nine in the morning._

_All children must be in bed for curfew by eight, apprentices by ten, and mages by eleven at night._

_Mages may not fraternize with other mages before, during, or after instructional hours. _

_Mages may not distract or otherwise disrupt templars from their duty before, during, or after instructional hours."_

A few of the children had trouble pronouncing instructional, making the chorus sound more like 'constructional hours' which made the older ones chuckle and break up the monotony. Even Senior Enchanter Wynne managed a smile before waving her stick about again to bring everyone back to focus.

"_Mages may not enter the templar dormitory without consent of the Knight-Commander and an appointed templar escort."_

"That's _consent_, not absent, Jeremy," Wynne lightly corrected one of the youngest. Isthalla snickered and whispered something to Jowan. A quick glare from Wynne cut her off.

"_Apprentices may not practice magic outside of instructional hours and within the presence of an appointed instructor."_

"My goodness, we'll have to work on simplifying the wording for you younger ones," Wynne shook her head after the jumbled noise that had become of the chorus. "That or form a class on proper pronunciation.." she added.

"Pronunce-ick-ation!" Jeremy waved his little arms. Jowan and some of the other older ones in the back started laughing.

"Yes, close enough," Wynne shook her head, then waved her stick about to continue.

"_Meals are to be held within the hours of nine to ten, twelve to one, and six to seven every day," _they continued.

One of the little girls of the group, a seven-year-old girl with big blue eyes and sun gold hair raised her stubby fingers in the air and waved it around. Wynne waved her hand to stop the disjointed song.

"Yes, what is it Emilia?" she tilted her head to the soft-spoken child. The little girl thought better of her question for a moment, fidgeting around and holding her hands behind her back, before looking up again.

"Uhm, what does fraterrizing mean?" she asked. A quick snort from an older boy behind her told the enchantress he had put the child up to it. Nevertheless, she knelt down and offered a wide smile to the girl.

"Fraternizing, you mean?" she corrected. "Well-" she struggled to find a way to explain it to a child so young. Perhaps it was time to separate the classes by age.

"It means to do _very_ naughty things, Emilia," Anders knelt down beside her too and placed a hand on her back. "It makes the senior enchanters _very_ angry." He bared a cheeky smile to his instructor, who very well how many _fraternization _issues she had dealt with regarding both him and countless, unaware apprentices in the past.

"Like stealing sweet bread from the kitchen?" Emilia asked with the innocence of any seven-year-old. Wynne sighed and dipped her head, grateful she wouldn't have to explain something so awkward to a child so young.

"Something like that," Anders made a quirky face and stood back up. Isthalla had moved behind the brazen eldest of the group and slipped a hand up his backside. Her hands were warm and nails tempted his bare skin.

"I'll meet you in the dorm later," she whispered into the back of his neck.

"Finally warmed up to me?" he whispered once Wynne had turned back around for a moment to examine her board of rules.

"No, I just need a worthy distraction from this drivel," she chuckled. He raised a brow when she discreetly ran her hand up his spine, then slipped it back out and stepped back beside her ever-present follower, Jowan.

"What was that about?" Jowan asked once she was within whispering distance again.

"Nothing important," she shrugged.

"Andraste's _ass_ not important," he argued. In that moment Wynne had turned back around, disrupting the conversation between the two friends.

"All right, it seems I need to have a word with the First Enchanter regarding our classes," she clasped her hands together. "Perhaps I can convince him after all it is in everyone's best interest to separate the classes by _age_ from now on," her eyes fell to Anders. "As pointed out by some of our eldest."

"Off you go, it's nearly lunchtime anyway. Be sure to come back here by one o'clock for your final evening lessons. I will see about dividing everyone appropriately then."

Jowan wrestled one of the other boys into a headlock on the way out, earning another barking remark from Wynne, who gave up when the crowd disappeared around the corner. She turned back to find Isthalla, who had since disappeared along with the eldest Anders to the opposite hall, and sighed before placing a hand to her face.

"Maker preserve me, I'm too old for this nonsense," she grumbled before scouting after the pair. She rounded the corner towards the stairs that led up to the second floor, and saw one of the other enchanters standing idly with a book in hand. He didn't even look up before pointing in the direction of the dormitory.

"That way," he noted. "Hopefully you can find him before their smallclothes are off this time."

"Let us hope," she commented while storming past.


End file.
